


Simple

by APendingThought



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Gen, Protective Shiro (Voltron), Space Dad Shiro (Voltron), baby!Lance, clueless Keith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-09
Updated: 2016-10-09
Packaged: 2018-08-20 10:53:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8246330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/APendingThought/pseuds/APendingThought
Summary: Keith has babysitting duty for baby!Lance tonight.  Six hours into the mission, he calls for backup.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MilkTeaMiku](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MilkTeaMiku/gifts).



The digital display on the alarm clock blinked on and off, mocking him.

Taunting him.

Torturing him.

Time no longer had any meaning.

2 AM.

3 AM

4 AM.

It was his turn.

The sun lamps would be generating their artificial heat soon and Lance had still not decided it was time to pass out. Babies clearly operated on principles that did not factor in logical biochemical functions at all. Keith groaned and shoved his pillow over his head, trying to mute the piercing wails coming from the crib. Intermittent was the best term to describe Lance’s sleeping patterns. An average of fifteen minutes of precarious peace would be shattered by an eruption of screeches, yowls and screams. Babies were complicated. Keith was calmest among hard things. The cold edge of a steel blade, the hydraulic thrust of Red when she lunged, anything he could push back against without breaking. Space was an unrelenting place to survive but its challenges had, thus far, been approachable by his determination. Not the fidgety, squirming, kicking, infant in the crib nearby.

“Enough already!” Keith growled, flicking on the light switch in irritation.

Oh, he had attempted many things. Lights on? Lance screamed. Lights off. Lance screamed. Humidifier. Lance screamed. Music. Lance wailed. Keith was out of tactics and on top of that, exhausted. His scattered bouts of involuntary dozing were not enough to keep his stress levels at bay. Lance, for his part, was no better. Keith stormed over to the crib and the howling baby in it. The room was dim and temperature regulated, ideal for most organisms in terms of sleep. His silent prayer that Lance would eventually cry himself into exhaustion had vanished two hours ago when the baby, for all his smallness, continued to harangue against seemingly all things. Lance’s soft hair was mussed around his ears and his face was bright red from crying. He immediately stretched out his little arm through the bars, asking to be comforted. The blanket he insisted on carrying with him wherever he went (even the dinner table) was now an ignored heap at the corner of his enclosure. 

“What do you _need_?” Keith implored, knowing Lance couldn’t talk in his state. Conquering his distaste, Keith reached down into the crib. Babies were fragile, Shiro had warned. One had to be extremely careful when handling them. He bent to scoop Lance up, holding him gingerly away from his body; concerned he might squeeze him too hard and injure him. Treating Lance like an open hand grenade was about as careful as Keith could manage. For all his caution however, Lance kicked and struggled in the air, no less noisy than before.  


Keith shifted the baby to his hip and tried pacing the room, Lance all but a secondary object attached to him. His eyesight was blurry; he was so tired and frazzled. He’d quickly learned there was no reasoning with infants, no bribing them and no appeasing them. Whatever he did, he did it wrong.

He could hardly wait to take it out on Lance when he was through being a child.

Keith tried dangling a pair of shiny steel rings in front of his eyes, hoping to distract him. It worked for a nanosecond before Lance got bored (he did that quick) and started thrashing again. Keith’s stomach knotted uneasily. Ever since Lance’s change, he had been on edge. His heart would not stop pounding.

“Come on, Lance…” Keith pleaded. “…how long CAN you cry?”

Panicked and desperate, he swung his bleary gaze to the the night table. He seemed to recall that babies calmed down magically when people shoved things in their mouths. He rummaged around in the drawer until he found a milk packet Hunk had stored there. Not bothering to warm it or even test its temperature, Keith offered it to Lance, placing the straw to his tiny pink lips. Lance howled and with one waved fist knocked it away and onto the floor, splashing its contents directly on Keith’s black shirt.

Lance 2, Keith zip.

So Lance was not hungry.

Keith angrily kicked the spilled packet of milk away in defeat.

Keith felt around his bottom. Lance was not wet. (God help him if he was…)

Not too warm. (different pay grade of crying)

Not too cold. (no shivering, at least Lance knew how to communicate that)

Playing 20 questions with a colicky baby approaching 4 AM on 2 hours of barely had sleep required more fortitude than a week of boot camp. Survival meant managing options. Keith’s racing mind ran through them all but he could not think anymore. Lance continued crying as though he were hurt. Keith's stomach froze in dread.

Keith whimpered a sigh and put the screaming Lance back down in the crib. He placed a firm hand on his little belly to prevent him from somehow rolling off to his peril. With the other hand, he flicked on his comlink. 

“Shiro? I need you. Something’s up with Lance…”

Shiro’s muffled sleepy voice responded. “On my way.”

Keith collapsed back onto his bed, rolling his aching shoulders. Shiro would know what to do, he always did. It was strange how the other paladins dealt with this new problem. Lance was always quiet in Pidge’s arms though his hands got a bit too grabby with her glasses and she often had to wrench his fists out of her hair. He cooed and even giggled when Hunk carried him around, even falling directly to sleep while Hunk held him. Keith held him but Lance never calmed down when he did. Shiro had a certain gift for knowing what things needed, even though he himself needed his own sleep very badly.

The automatic door slid open with a quiet hiss and Shiro stood in its frame. For once he was not armored but had dressed down in a grey T-shirt and black sweatpants. Shiro was rarely out of uniform but their unique situation had persuaded him out of it for a few nights in exchange for the hope of any real sleep. Keith’s blood pressure lowered instantly at the sight of him. Yawning, Shiro crossed the threshold and assessed the situation. Keith realized he must look pretty ragged, with his milk-stained clothes, flushed sleepy face and scowl.

“He giving you a hard time?” Shiro said with a half grin, strolling over to Lance who had settled into fretful whimpers, drooling over a fist stuffed in his mouth. Gently, Shiro picked Lance up in his big arms to balance the infant against his shoulder and that’s when the screaming began again. Shiro was, remarkably, unfazed. 

“See? He’s broken! He freaks out every time someone touches him!”

“I sincerely doubt he’s broken.” Shiro said, jouncing Lance gently while rubbing circles on his back with his human hand. “He’s just tired and cranky. Babies often are.”

Lance continued to bawl as Shiro walked him up and down the room, murmuring soothing words and rocking him a bit. Even a few snatches of a Japanese lullaby did no good. Keith hid his head in his hands in defeat. 

“Sorry…Shiro…just so tired. Don’t know what he wants.” He muttered.

"I see." Shiro replied, speaking softly. "It's ok, it's ok, everything's fine." Keith could not be sure who Shiro was addressing, him or Lance.

"He just won't listen!" Keith argued.

Shiro hummed thoughtfully. "Ya know, I bet if he could talk right now, he'd say the same." Keith grumbled unintelligibly about Shiro's unflagging sense of humor. “Here, why don’t you take him for now?” Shiro offered once Lance's screams had died down to watery hiccups and sniffles

“Yer askin for trouble.” Keith warned.

“Come on. Just for a minute?”

Keith sighed and stood up, only then remembering his soggy, smelly T-shirt. With an irritated growl, he pulled it up over his head and threw it into the laundry hamper. 

“Ready?” Shiro gently shifted Lance’s struggling body and deposited him into Keith’s hands. The moment Lance found himself back in Keith’s sweaty, distant grip, the caliber of his screams instantly increased. It was like some invisible rage switch had been turned on. Keith growled in frustration, clutching Lance as though he were a fragile piece of glass, away from his body to avoid the baby's kicking feet. His helplessness made him irritable. Here he was trying to be as careful as possible and Lance was still not happy!

“See?” Keith snarled, rocking Lance up and down in an awkward motion. “He doesn’t like me!”

“He’s not going to stop crying if you hold him like THAT.” Shiro commented temperately. ”“Why don’t you sit down?” He dragged a chair over next to the crib and motioned for Keith to sit in it. Keith huffed but obeyed, still clinging tight to the little ticking time bomb in front of him. Lance, for his part, continued to cry.

“Ok?” He sulked through gritted teeth. “Now what?”

“Don’t tense up.” Shiro warned gently. “Let him know he’s safe. Prop him up against your chest.” Shiro took Keith’s hand and placed it purposefully over Lance’s tiny back to keep the small fidgety body secure. Keith attempted but his hands were shaking uneasily. Shiro patiently explained again.

“Here, try it like this.” Shiro positioned Keith’s biceps so that they formed a curved cradle of their own. “Hold him close to your body. That way he can hear your heartbeat. When he’s this close to you, he knows he’s not about to be dropped.”

He nestled Lance’s head in the crook of Keith’s elbow as Keith sat stock still. Lance snuffled and kicked but quieted some, his face hot and wet with tears. Keith froze, body tense and rigid, hoping not to break the false sense of calm Shiro had initiated. Lance was still fussy, whimpering on and off. Keith had no idea what fascination the sound of his own racing heart would have on Lance but the close contact seemed to calm the baby down at least a little.

“You’re too tense, relax.” Shiro placed both of his palms on Keith’s shoulders, rubbing his thumb firmly along the back of Keith’s wound up neck. “If you’re this tense, imagine how he feels.”

Keith settled into Shiro’s touch, finally letting the tightly wound muscles of his abdomen, shoulders, neck and arms loosen a bit. He released a breath, regaining his center and smoothing out his frayed nerves. Lance seemed to calm with him, his head resting loosely against Keith’s chest. 

“Babies are sensitive. “ Shiro whispered in his ear. “If you’re stressed out, it’s going to scare him. You need to be calm for him.”  


Keith felt his heavy eyelids drooping, letting Shiro's steady words soothe his distress. "May be weird to wrap your head around but remember that to Lance, everything is big and scary. He's so small and that's a scary thing to be. Your body is big and all he knows is that it can either help him or hurt him. Keep him close to you. Let him know everything will be fine."

In the seconds that felt like hours that it took for Lance’s tiny fists to find and tangle into the hair at the back of his neck, he realized the room had quieted again and Lance was fast asleep. Keith felt the rush of anxiety drain from his limbs as he methodically patted circles between Lance’s shoulders. Keith looked down at Lance placed his other hand gently on his small belly. He could feel his own heartbeat slow with Shiro’s words and touch and felt Lance’s small body respond in turn. 

Shiro’s presence shifted from behind him and stretched both arms above his head. 

“Mission accomplished.” He sighed. “He should stay out now for a few hours so you can rest.”

Keith did not move. “Thanks, Shiro.”

Shiro paused, lingering in the doorframe for a moment. “You can put him in his crib?" He suggested. "He's out for the count.”

“I know.” Keith murmured, not looking away from Lance’s sleeping face. “I just…wanna practice holding him a while.”

“Suit yourself.”

Keith was staring down at the sleeping baby in his arms, pressed closed to his chest. Both of them breathed in and out in unison, both wearied and spent. “All that crying…” He murmured softly. “…this was all you wanted?”

Keith did not see the tired smile that passed across Shiro’s face as he clicked the door closed for the night.

**Author's Note:**

> Just an extension of this infant Paladin universe. Shameless fluff.


End file.
